Yew Queen Trilogy, стр. 15
Was it because of his youth? Or was that a tactic? He had a grace unlike the teens I knew, his feet moving with slow, deliberate confidence through the brush. His eyes were half-slitted, and his lips parted like he wanted to say something to her, to call out.
Knowledge touched my mind. He had been warned off this woman, this high-born girl named Lucilla. But they had met before, and she cared for him.
A black bird landed on his shoulder and nudged his temple. He whispered to the bird and dusted a hand over its glossy feathers before it flew into the green sky of the wood. The ferns shifted to help Lucus along more quickly, and I was mesmerized at the look of him here, in his home, in a place where he was lord and the world took notice. It could’ve been a beautiful moment, but I knew what came next.
My throat went dry. Someone was about to die.
Lucilla’s head jerked up as she noticed him. In one smooth motion, she stood and dropped her basket of mushrooms to the forest floor. Smiling like she knew and adored him, she took a step forward. Her eyes shuttered as he approached, emerald sparks dancing around his fingertips.
“No!” I started toward them. “Wake up, girl! He is not what you think he is!” An invisible wall slammed into me. Neither of them appeared to have heard my shouting.
Lucilla moaned and stepped into his arms.
A strange nausea swamped me. I wasn’t a fan for a lot of reasons, one of which was the jealousy I was feeling. I bit my lip, trying to force that nasty feeling away.
Why in the world did it feel like he belonged to me?
No way.
I wanted nothing to do with that feeling. It made no sense anyway. He was a monster, and he was most likely going to kill me in a manner similar to the way Lucilla was about to die.
When his hand curled around the back of her neck, my hand flew to my own neck, where he had touched me the first day we met. My stomach turned, and I looked to the ground. I was equal parts desperate to avoid watching this scene and feverishly curious. I raised my head and decided I needed to watch to learn about Lucus and the threat of his kind. It would be weak and stupid to look away because maybe I’d discover some clue that could help me defeat him.
Lucus’s onyx and emerald hair fell away from his forehead as he tilted his head back and closed his eyes, looking euphoric. Lucilla clung to him, fingers digging into his arms and one leg twisted around him like a length of ivy.
The air around Lucus and Lucilla blurred suddenly, like water dropped on a watercolor painting.
Lucus’s emotions poured into me.
I gasped as I felt raw power surge inside his body. What was happening to him? Was this the moment his alpha-ness clicked on?
Lucus’s wings appeared, deep green and dark brown, and the tip of a horn caught a lock of Lucilla’s flame-bright hair as he bent his head to place his mouth below her chin. He gripped her more tightly, and she shivered against him as he fed from her aura. She grimaced, seemingly tortured by the pleasure of his lure, then in a sudden movement, he spun and brought her to the ground, his body underneath hers. His hips moved against her body as he rucked her dress over her thighs.
I wanted to stop watching, but there was no way I could tear my gaze away. It was like I was locked there, frozen again, turned on and scared to death at the same time.
Lucus flipped the Mage Duke’s daughter onto her back and cupped her breast as his lips dragged over her throat. His body burned with desire, and I felt every beat of his heart like a beat of my own. We needed Lucilla’s aura like a drowning man needs air. We wanted to fill her body with heat and joy.
Lucilla’s moans grew softer.
I stepped forward, pressing my transparent hands against the invisible wall, desperate to help, to change history, to save her and him both from this horror.
Lucilla’s hands fell away from Lucus’s shirt. He jerked back, holding her at arm’s length, his eyes going wide with shock.
He turned his face away, squeezing his eyes shut as his fingers dug into the dead woman’s arms. It seemed like he was willing her to be alive.
But I knew the ending of this story, or at least, the most important part—he had killed her.
Shaking himself, he lifted Lucilla and cradled her in his arms. He began walking toward a break in the trees, and as he passed by, silver tears streaked down his pale cheeks.
Chapter 12
The memory shifted, and I was walking behind Lucus, my feet numb and my body moving without any nudge from me. In front, Lucus’s wings shuddered as he carried his unintended victim toward the cursed castle. Lucilla’s hair spilled over his arm and shone so brilliantly in the sun that it almost looked like fire.
The surrounding birdsong was muffled along with the bang of Lucus’s fist against the castle’s wooden door. A beast of a man in white and black livery answered, and when his gaze fell on Lucilla, he tore her from Lucus, shouting, spittle flying from his mouth.
I strained to hear as more calls rang out and more men appeared at the door, swords drawn. They pushed Lucus back and he held out his hands, eyes downcast and shoulders sagging.
The urge to go to him and stand beside him, to explain how the murder had been an accident—and how sorry it seemed Lucus was—tugged at my chest. But he was guilty. He had hunted Lucilla, and he had killed her. No amount of regret changed that fact.
Soon, twelve